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I know all of my faithful followers are used to my posting schedule, but unfortunately, we have a bit of a problem this week.

Call it:

Garden: 1
Roberta: 0

We finally had a nice day and I went to ready the perennial beds for summer. Apparently, that was a mistake.

I did something that did not agree with my back on Sunday and have been rather incapacitated ever since.

OK, enough with the niceties – it hurts like bloody hell. And you cannot blog or write in a prone position.

So please bear with me for the next few days as my normal publication schedule is interrupted. I do have a few articles nearly prepared and I’ll see what I can do with those.

And as for that cliffhanger…I really didn’t do that on purpose. Seriously.

In the mean time, there are almost 700 articles on this blog and it’s fully searchable by key word in the search box in the upper right hand corner – so maybe this is a good time to read about something new!

This Memorial Day, I couldn’t help but think of all of the people who made that ultimate sacrifice and how their deaths changed history – and I don’t necessarily mean history on the battlefield. I’m talking about personal history. Many changes are invisible in the big picture – but life-altering to the people on the receiving end.

You see, Frank was scheduled to be my father. Frank was engaged to my mother. But Frank never came home from WWII. All gave some, and some gave all. Frank gave all. The ultimate sacrifice.

When I was about 10 years old, I found a man’s ring in my mother’s jewelry box that I didn’t remember seeing before. Not her “current” jewelry box, but the special box for “old things.” I got the ring out, put it on and started playing with it. I thought it might have been my Dad’s, who had died a few years earlier. The ring, of course, was much too large. I waltzed out into the kitchen with the ring dangling from my finger, and the look on my mother’s face would have stopped a freight train. Someplace between shock and horror – and then pain as she cried. She came, retrieved the ring, put it away and told me I couldn’t play with that. I asked whose it was, and she simply said she couldn’t talk about it. I felt just awful. So did she.

It would be many years, but then one day, as I faced Vietnam married to a Marine, she told me the story of Frank.

I felt like I was an intruder into a sacred space made just for two, a time capsule all sealed up. That capsule was full of both joy and sorrow. It was the sorrow that sealed it for years.

We sat on the edge of the bed, and Mom told me about Frank, and about her and Frank. I stared at the pattern on the bedspread, burned into my mind yet today, unable to look at her. She wasn’t there anyway. She was someplace else – back in Chicago with Frank in the 1940s. Her sorrow, even after all those years, was current, real, palpable and painful. You could feel it in every word she spoke, and even in the pauses between words and the sometimes long stretches between sentences. Tears silently rolled down her cheeks. Tears roll down mine today as I remember…

Frank had hopes and dreams and plans. He was the all-American boy, participating in clubs in high school.

He wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to get married – to my mother. He wanted a family. But the war interfered. That war interfered with nearly everything.

Mom went to Chicago in 1943 or 1944 to dance with a professional tap and ballet company that performed primarily at the Edgewater Beach Hotel, a swanky upscale beachside hotel on Lake Michigan that featured acts like Bing Crosby. Her troupe was sometimes the main attraction, and sometimes the backup act for big name talent. You can see a video about Chicago nightlife in 1947 here. I think mother is the dark haired women in the front beginning about minute 6:14.

Mom was a beautiful, talented lady and had many beaus and suitors. She lived in a house with a widow lady, who she called Mommie Mackenzie, who acted as her surrogate mother/grandmother and chaperone. It was just not acceptable for a respectable young woman to be unchaperoned in Chicago. Mother was 20 in 1943.

I don’t know how Mom and Frank met. I didn’t have the heart to ask Mom any more questions that would be painful. I do know they fell in love in Chicago and planned to marry as soon as he came home.

Frank enlisted in February of 1943, perhaps before he met mother.

By Christmas of 1944, they were an item. He was stationed in San Francisco at that time, but would ship out to the Pacific theater in early 1945 and faced some of the bloodiest battles of the war. Those, he survived.

Mom said Frank was a doctor. I think he actually was a medic, but I really don’t know. It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that Frank enlisted to help people. He died doing just that in a medical unit. Mom said that Frank was killed trying to help another man “after the first truce but before the second one.”

Mom said that she knew the last time she saw Frank off at the train station that he would never come home. I asked her how she knew and she said she didn’t know, but that she cried too hard – and she knew. Mom always had a way of knowing things like that.

Mom repeated to herself over and over that things would be alright, that Frank would come home…trying to make it true by virtue of sheer willpower. But it wasn’t to be.

VE Day, or Victory in Europe Day was celebrated on May 8, 1945 but it would be another three months until VJ Day, Victory in Japan Day, was celebrated on August 15th, 1945. Frank was stationed in Okinawa during that time. He never saw VE or VJ Day, because he was killed on April 19th, just days before the end of the war.

Mom tells how she was called and asked around noon on VJ Day, the 15th, to participate in the impromptu Chicago celebrations held in the streets downtown. The country went insane with celebration described as an “outbreak of giddy.” Life was going to return to normal and Johnny would come marching home. Except Frank didn’t.

Mother said she wanted to be happy, and to celebrate, and she did go and sing with the group of performers – but she could not be happy. One of her songs was a patriotic solo and she said she very nearly could not make it through the performance. The celebration could not overcome her somberness and grief. While, she was glad that the war was over and no one else would be killed, there was no joy in the celebration for her.

The man who was to be my mother’s husband and my father, would never be those things. He was robbed of that opportunity, and so was Mom. Frank gave all.

Frank came home, but in a different way. Frank is pictured above with his father, also Frank, who would bury his son four years later and request a military headstone. Yes, it took the family four years to get Frank’s body back. Four very long years. On the back of that photo is written “Who’s that handsome fellow in the zoot suit?” and then a note below it with an arrow that says “Sis’s corny cracks are on all pix she sends.”

I don’t know who called mother with the news of Frank’s death. I’m guessing it would have been Frank’s parents. I know she corresponded with Frank’s sister for decades. Mom was treated as Frank’s future wife by his family, and then as his widow.

Mother never talked about Frank’s funeral. Nothing, ever. I think it was just too difficult for her – even 20 years and then decades later. I know she came entirely unglued every time she heard taps and would do almost anything to avoid that circumstance.

To me, 20 years seemed like an eternity ago, more than a decade before I was born, but looking back now at things in my life that happened 20 years ago, it doesn’t seem so long and many that are painful are still quite fresh. Sometimes it’s extremely difficult to verbalize experiences that were overwhelmingly painful. Sometimes talking about them opens that terrible gash again.

Mother was heartbroken. Devastated. It would be another decade before she met my father and nearly 20 years after that until she married again, in her 50s. And that decade in-between Frank’s death and my father, well, let’s just say it wasn’t wonderful. It’s difficult to live with unrelenting grief so profound. I don’t think anyone ever measured up to Frank, at least not until she met my step-father. My own father was simply another heartbreak for mother.

Frank’s death took his life, but it also took the life that mother and Frank had planned, and it took the lives of the children they never had. It robbed them of their future together…and altogether. It changed the course of my mother’s life in such a fundamental way that I can’t even imagine the different life she would have had with Frank, or who I would have been or would be today. Would I even be me? Half my DNA and half my ancestors would have been different – as would my entire set of life experiences. I would have been a Catholic child raised in Chicago with Polish ancestors – not a Hoosier with ancestry throughout Appalachia.

Frank was supposed to be my father, but instead, on a train, someplace between Philadelphia and Chicago, while traveling with the dance troupe, almost a decade later, my mother met my father, a devilishly handsome and extremely personable stranger who already had a wife…but failed to mention that pesky little detail.

The rest, as they say, is history.

RIP Frank.

RIP Mom.

At least they are together now. I imagine that was one incredibly joyful reunion – delayed by 61 years. Love never dies.

Update: To see “the rest of the story,” that happened as a result of this article, click here and here.

Last week, when Valerie Bertinelli was featured on WDYTYA, I whined on Facebook about how jealous I am that not only is there ALWAYS a parking place in front of the library or archives in the series, but the celebrity’s records are always just waiting for them, while, mine, if there at all, are buried so deeply they require an archaeologist to excavate them.

My husband said to me, “You just have to find a gateway ancestor, like Valerie, and then your pedigree will be done too.” I told my husband that all my gateway ancestor would lead to is likely a prison cell. My ancestors, at least some of them, were none too well behaved and let’s say that sometimes the only records they left were related to prosecution of some type. Thank heavens they at least did that!!! My family is always colorful, and interesting, and infamous…but seldom famous.

As you all know, I write one of these “52 Ancestors” articles every week, generally late at night, and I often mutter rather unspeakable things at Amy Johnson Crow in the process. Let’s just say that doing this series forces you to go back through your records, all of your records, for each ancestor, and to be sure they are in order. Now, on the surface this is a good and admiral thing to be doing, but in the middle of the night, it just doesn’t seem so.

This week, I was working on my Bolton and Clarkson lines out of Claiborne County, TN and I noticed a rather large article on the Brooks family that my now deceased cousin, Bill Nevils, had written. Bill was a retired Episcopal Priest, which is a story all by itself, especially being from Claiborne County in the Bible Belt south. After his retirement, he moved home to “take care” of his mother, Thelma. Now I met Thelma and Bill some years ago and let me tell you, I’m not at all sure it was Bill taking care of Thelma. When we arrived, this little 90 year old lady had just finished mowing the yard with a push mower (and not because Bill wouldn’t, because she insisted) and came in to make lunch for us, and not one single hair out of place. Fittingly, Bill had written the article about the Brooks family in tribute to his mother, Thelma. Little did we know that Thelma would outlive her only child. Not only that, after Bill’s death, she wrote me a lovely letter after I sent her a sympathy card. She was celebrating Bill’s life, not grieving his death, although of course she was saddened by his passing.

So you can understand why, when I saw this article, I paused to read it. I mean, I’m already down to about 4 hours sleep so what are a few more lost minutes. I was reading Bill’s lovely tribute to his mother and just kept reading when the article, of course, shifted to genealogy. It was a “People’s History Book,” after all. I should have stopped reading, but I was tired and just kept skimming. I read that Thelma was descended from King Edward I. I thought to myself, “Oh, Thelma is related to Valerie Bertinelli.” And I kept reading, when I started recognizing familiar names. And then more familiar names, and then I realized that the family that Thelma descended from that descended from King Edward I was my family too. I read it a second time, because I was sure I had misread it. Then a third time. Then I went to bed, because I was sure I was hallucinating due to lack of sleep.

I read this again the next day, in broad daylight, after at least 4 hours sleep, and it said the same thing.

Bill was a fastidious researcher. He listed sources. I checked them. Bill, it seems, was right. I was shocked and couldn’t quite believe my eyes.

And the great irony was that this line, this article that felled the wall, was right on my own shelf AND HAD BEEN for years. Just like those celebrities at the archives, just waiting for me with no parking space needed. I have to retract my whine.

I have suddenly, for some unknown reason, developed a fascination with King Edward I, British history and royal genealogy. Edward’s father, Henry III is at the bottom of this first tree and the top of the second tree.

How I wish I had known this before I went to England last year. I skipped Westminster Abbey entirely and that is where Edward is buried, and was crowned. I did visit Westminster Abbey in 1970 when I was in London, and I has absolutely NO IDEA that I had any history of any kind in England, let alone an ancestor buried in Westminster Abbey.

What’s worse yet, is that Edward’s coronation “chair” is in Westminster, and I could have seen it.

King Edward’s Chair (also known as St. Edward’s Chair), the throne on which English and British sovereigns have been seated at the moment of coronation, is housed within the Abbey and has been used at every coronation since 1308. From 1301 to 1996 (except for a short time in 1950 when it was temporarily stolen by Scottish nationalists), the chair also housed the Stone of Scone upon which the kings of Scotland are, or were, traditionally crowned. Although the Stone is now kept in Scotland, in Edinburgh Castle, at future coronations it is intended that the Stone will be returned to St. Edward’s Chair for use during the coronation ceremony.

The Stone of Scone would have been located beneath the seat of the chair. A replica is shown below.

The photo below is of the coronation chair, before the stone was re-kidnapped and then broken in half.

The stone and the coronation chair is show in this drawing from Westminster Abbey in 1855. The Stone of Scone has a rich and mysterious history all of its own.

King Edward was born during the night of June 17/18, 1239 at Westminster Palace and died on July 7, 1307, the son of Henry III of England and Eleanor of Provence.

He married Eleanor of Castille in 1254, between October 13th and November 1st, in the church of the monastery of Las Huelgas at Burgos, the capital city of Old Castille in northern Spain, shown below. This was an arranged marriage. Edward was only 14 years old and Eleanor 12 or 13, although their first child would be stillborn the following year.

He and Eleanor perhaps walked in these protected cloisters, before or after their marriage, discussing their dreams for the future.

Eleanor died on November 28, 1290 at in the house of Richard de Weston, the foundations of which can still be seen near Harby parish church. Her body was taken to Westminster Abbey for burial where she and Edward were crowned August 19, 1274.

Eleanor had survived 16 pregnancies, but likely died of malaria or complications thereof.

Grieving his Eleanor terribly, he had twelve “Eleanor Crosses” constructed at each location that her body stopped on its way from Harby, Nottinghamshire, to London for burial, including Charring Cross in London. Three remain today, although none entirely. There were originally massive crosses on the top of each monument. The one at Northampton is shown below.

After her body had been embalmed, which in the 13th century involved evisceration (removal of some of the internal organs, including the bowel,) Eleanor’s viscera were buried in Lincoln cathedral, and Edward placed a duplicate of the Westminster tomb there. The Lincoln tomb’s original stone chest survives; its effigy was destroyed in the 17th century and replaced with a 19th-century copy. I must admit, having an ancestor with parts buried in two locations is a first for me.

Eleanor (18 June 1269 – 29 August 1298). She was long betrothed to Alfonso III of Aragon, who died in 1291 before the marriage could take place, and in 1293 she married Count Henry III of Bar, by whom she had one son and one daughter.

Daughter (28 May 1271, Palestine – 5 September 1271), probably buried in Dominican Priory Church, Bordeaux, France. Some sources call her Juliana, but there is no contemporary evidence for her name.

It has been suggested that Eleanor and Edward were more devoted to each other than to their children. As king and queen, however, it was impossible for them to spend much time in one place, and when they were very young, the children could not travel constantly with their parents. The children had a household staffed with attendants carefully chosen for competence and loyalty, with whom the parents corresponded regularly. The children lived in this comfortable establishment until they were about seven years old; then they began to accompany their parents, if at first only on important occasions. By their teens they were with the king and queen much of the time. In 1290, Eleanor sent one of her scribes to join her children’s household, presumably to help with their education.

In 1306 Edward sharply scolded Margerie de Haustede, Eleanor’s former lady in waiting who was then in charge of his children by his second wife, because Margerie had not kept him well informed of their health. Edward also issued regular instructions for the care and guidance of these children.

Two incidents cited to imply Eleanor’s lack of interest in her children are easily explained in the contexts of royal childrearing in general, and of particular events surrounding Edward and Eleanor’s family. When their six-year-old son Henry lay dying at Guildford in 1274, neither parent made the short journey from London to see him; but Henry was tended by Edward’s mother Eleanor of Provence. The boy had lived with his grandmother while his parents were absent on crusade, and since he was barely two years old when they left England in 1270, he could not have had many worthwhile memories of them at the time they returned to England in August 1274, only weeks before his last illness and death. In other words, the dowager queen was a more familiar and comforting presence to her grandson than his parents would have been at that time, and it was in all respects better that she tended him then.

Similarly, Edward and Eleanor allowed her mother, Joan of Dammartin, to raise their daughter Joan in Ponthieu (1274–78). This implies no parental lack of interest in the girl; the practice of fostering noble children in other households of sufficient dignity was not unknown and Eleanor’s mother was, of course, dowager queen of Castile. Her household was thus safe and dignified, but it does appear that Edward and Eleanor had cause to regret their generosity in letting Joan of Dammartin foster young Joan. When the girl reached England in 1278, aged six, it turned out that she was badly spoiled. She was spirited and at times defiant in childhood, and in adulthood remained a handful for Edward, defying his plans for a prestigious second marriage for her by secretly marrying one of her late first husband’s squires. When the marriage was revealed in 1297 because Joan was pregnant, Edward was enraged that his dignity had been insulted by her marriage to a commoner of no importance. Joan, at twenty-five, reportedly defended her conduct to her father by saying that nobody saw anything wrong if a great earl married a poor woman, so there could be nothing wrong with a countess marrying a promising young man. Whether or not her retort ultimately changed his mind, Edward restored to Joan all the lands he had confiscated when he learned of her marriage, and accepted her new husband as a son-in-law in good standing. Joan marked her restoration to favour by having masses celebrated for the soul of her mother Eleanor.

Looks like spoiled children are nothing new to our life and times. I would simply view her as “spirited” or perhaps she simply took after her father who, it seems, had a bit of a temper himself.

King Edward I

Drawing of Edward I taken from the various carvings. He seemed to be a very handsome man, but his drooping eyelid was not portrayed in the drawing.

Edward I was known as Edward Longshanks and the “Hammer of the Scots.” The first son of Henry III, Edward was involved early in the political intrigues of his father’s reign, which included an outright rebellion by the English barons. In 1259, Edward briefly sided against his father with a baronial reform movement, supporting the Provisions of Oxford.

After reconciliation with his father, however, he remained loyal throughout the subsequent armed conflict, known as the Second Barons’ War. After the Battle of Lewes, Edward was hostage to the rebellious barons, but escaped after a few months and joined the fight against Simon de Montfort. Montfort was defeated at the Battle of Evesham in 1265, and within two years the rebellion was extinguished. With England pacified, Edward left on a crusade to the Holy Land.

The crusade accomplished little, and Edward was on his way home in 1272 when he was informed that his father had died. Making a slow return, he reached England in 1274 and was crowned at Westminster on 19 August.

He spent much of his reign reforming royal administration and common law. Through an extensive legal inquiry, Edward investigated the tenure of various feudal liberties, while the law was reformed through a series of statutes regulating criminal and property law. Increasingly, however, Edward’s attention was drawn towards military affairs. After suppressing a minor rebellion in Wales in 1276–77, Edward responded to a second rebellion in 1282–83 with a full-scale war of conquest. After a successful campaign, Edward subjected Wales to English rule, built a series of castles and towns in the countryside and settled them with Englishmen.

Next, his efforts were directed towards Scotland. Initially invited to arbitrate a succession dispute, Edward claimed feudal suzerainty over the kingdom. In the war that followed, the Scots persevered, even though the English seemed victorious at several points. At the same time there were problems at home. In the mid-1290s, extensive military campaigns required high levels of taxation, and Edward met with both lay and ecclesiastical opposition. These crises were initially averted, but issues remained unsettled. When the King died in 1307, he left to his son, Edward II, an ongoing war with Scotland and many financial and political problems.

Edward I was a tall man for his era, hence the nickname “Longshanks”. He was temperamental, and this, along with his height, made him an intimidating man, and he often instilled fear in his contemporaries. Nevertheless, he held the respect of his subjects for the way he embodied the medieval ideal of kingship, as a soldier, an administrator and a man of faith. Modern historians are divided on their assessment of the King: while some have praised him for his contribution to the law and administration, others have criticized him for his uncompromising attitude towards his nobility.

Currently, Edward I is credited with many accomplishments during his reign, including restoring royal authority after the reign of Henry III, establishing Parliament as a permanent institution and thereby also a functional system for raising taxes, and reforming the law through statutes. At the same time, he is also often criticized for other actions, such as his brutal conduct towards the Scots, and issuing the Edict of Expulsion in 1290 by which the Jews were expelled from England. The Edict remained in effect for the rest of the Middle Ages, and it would be over 350 years until it was formally overturned under Oliver Cromwell in 1656.

Edward as a Young Man

Edward was born at the Palace of Westminster (shown below) during the night of June 17/18, 1239, to King Henry III and Eleanor of Provence. Ironically, I visited this location in 1970 as a student and bought a charm of the clock tower, known as Big Ben, which I still have.

Edward was an Anglo-Saxon name, and was not common among the aristocracy of England after the Norman Conquest, but Henry was devoted to the veneration of Edward the Confessor, and decided to name his firstborn son after the saint.

Edward was in the care of Hugh Giffard – father of the future Chancellor Godfrey Giffard – until Bartholomew Pecche took over at Giffard’s death in 1246.

There were concerns about Edward’s health as a child, and he fell ill in 1246, 1247, and 1251.

His illnesses apparently didn’t impair his health, as he became an imposing man; at 6 feet 2 inches (1.88 m) he towered over most of his contemporaries, and hence perhaps his epithet “Longshanks”, meaning “long legs” or “long shins”. The historian Michael Prestwich states that his “long arms gave him an advantage as a swordsman, long thighs one as a horseman. In youth, his curly hair was blond; in maturity it darkened, and in old age it turned white. His speech, despite a lisp, was said to be persuasive.”

Edward’s features were marked by piercing blue eyes and a drooping left eyelid, a trait that he inherited from his father and is depicted in the 14th century manuscript, below, where he is shown with Eleanor.

In 1254, English fears of a Castilian invasion of the English province of Gascony induced Edward’s father to arrange a politically expedient marriage between his fourteen-year-old son and Eleanor, the half-sister of King Alfonso X of Castile.

Eleanor and Edward were married on or about November 1, 1254 in the Abbey of Santa María la Real de Las Huelgas in Castile. As part of the marriage agreement, the young prince received grants of land worth 15,000 marks a year. Though the endowments King Henry made were sizeable, they offered Edward little independence. He had already received Gascony as early as 1249, but Simon de Montfort, 6th Earl of Leicester, had been appointed as royal lieutenant the year before and, consequently, drew its income, so in practice Edward derived neither authority nor revenue from this province. The grant he received in 1254 included most of Ireland, and much land in Wales and England, including the earldom of Chester, but the King retained much control over the land in question, particularly in Ireland, so Edward’s power was limited there as well, and the King derived most of the income from those lands.

From 1254 to 1257, Edward was under the influence of his mother’s relatives, known as the Savoyards, the most notable of whom was Peter of Savoy, the queen’s uncle. After 1257, Edward increasingly fell in with the Poitevin or Lusignan faction – the half-brothers of his father Henry III – led by such men as William de Valence. There were tales of unruly and violent conduct by Edward and his Lusignan kinsmen, which raised questions about the royal heir’s personal qualities. The next years would be formative on Edward’s character.

Back in England, early in 1262, Edward fell out with some of his former Lusignan allies over financial matters. The next year, King Henry sent him on a campaign in Wales against Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, with only limited results. Around the same time, Simon de Montfort, who had been out of the country since 1261, returned to England and reignited the baronial reform movement. It was at this pivotal moment, as the King seemed ready to resign to the barons’ demands, that Edward began to take control of the situation. Whereas he had so far been unpredictable and equivocating, from this point on he remained firmly devoted to protecting his father’s royal rights. He reunited with some of the men he had alienated the year before – and retook massive Windsor Castle, built by William the Conqueror, Edward’s 4th great-grandfather, shown below, from the rebels.

Through the arbitration of King Louis IX of France, an agreement was made between the two parties. This so-called Mise of Amiens was largely favorable to the royalist side, and laid the seeds for further conflict.

Wars and Crusades

Between 1262 and 1267, the Second Baron’s War took place in England. In the end, after being held hostage for nearly a year, the Royalists were victorious and Edward began to plan for his Crusade to the Holy Land.

Edward took the crusader’s cross in an elaborate ceremony on 24 June 1268, with his brother Edmund and cousin and childhood friend, Henry of Almain.

With the country pacified, the greatest impediment to the project was providing sufficient finances. King Louis IX of France, who was the leader of the crusade, provided a loan of about £17,500. This, however, was not enough; the rest had to be raised through a tax on the laity, which had not been levied since 1237. In May 1270, Parliament granted a tax of a twentieth, in exchange for which the King agreed to reconfirm Magna Carta, and to impose restrictions on Jewish money lending. On August 20, Edward sailed from Dover for France. Historians have not determined the size of the force with any certainty, but Edward probably brought with him around 225 knights and all together less than 1000 men.

Originally, the Crusaders intended to relieve the beleaguered Christian stronghold of Acre, but Louis had been diverted to Tunis. The French King and his brother Charles of Anjou, who had made himself king of Sicily, decided to attack the emirate to establish a stronghold in North Africa. The plans failed when the French forces were struck by an epidemic which, on August 25th, took the life of King Louis himself. By the time Edward arrived at Tunis, Charles had already signed a treaty with the emir, and there was little else to do but return to Sicily. The crusade was postponed until next spring, but a devastating storm off the coast of Sicily dissuaded Charles of Anjou and Louis’s successor Philip III from any further campaigning. Edward decided to continue alone, and on May 9, 1271, he finally landed at Acre.

Operations during the Crusade of Edward I.

By then, the situation in the Holy Land was a precarious one. Jerusalem had fallen in 1244, and Acre was now the center of the Christian state. The Muslim states were on the offensive under the Mamluk leadership of Baibars, and were now threatening Acre itself. Though Edward’s men were an important addition to the garrison, they stood little chance against Baibars’ superior forces, and an initial raid at nearby St Georges-de-Lebeyne in June was largely futile. The area is shown below.

An embassy to the Ilkhan Abaqa (1234–1282) of the Mongols helped bring about an attack on Aleppo in the north, which helped to distract Baibar’s forces. In November, Edward led a raid on Qaqun, which could have served as a bridgehead to Jerusalem, but both the Mongol invasion and the attack on Qaqun failed. Things now seemed increasingly desperate, and in May 1272 Hugh III of Cyprus, who was the nominal king of Jerusalem, signed a ten-year truce with Baibars. Edward was initially defiant, but an attack by a Muslim assassin in June forced him to abandon any further campaigning. Although he managed to kill the assassin, he was struck in the arm by a dagger feared to be poisoned, and became severely weakened over the following months.

It was not until September 24th that Edward left Acre. Arriving in Sicily, he was met with the news that his father had died on November 16th. Edward was deeply saddened by this news, but rather than hurrying home at once, he made a leisurely journey northwards. This was partly due to his health still being poor, but also due to a lack of urgency. The political situation in England was stable after the mid-century upheavals, and Edward was proclaimed king at his father’s death, rather than at his own coronation, as had until then been customary.

In Edward’s absence, the country was governed by a royal council, led by Robert Burnell. The new king embarked on an overland journey through Italy and France, where among other things he visited the pope in Rome and suppressed a rebellion in Gascony. On August 2, 1274 he returned to England, and was crowned with Eleanor on August 19th in Westminster Abbey in London.

The Round Table

Edward had a reputation for a fierce temper, and he could be intimidating; one story tells of how the Dean of St Paul’s, wishing to confront Edward over the high level of taxation in 1295, fell down and died once he was in the King’s presence.

When Edward of Caernarfon demanded an earldom for his favorite Gaveston, the King erupted in anger and supposedly tore out handfuls of his son’s hair. Some of his contemporaries considered Edward frightening, particularly in his early days. The Song of Lewes in 1264, a very enlightening, if difficult to read poem translated from Latin about Edward, described him as a leopard, an animal regarded as particularly powerful and unpredictable.

Whereunto shall the noble Edward be compared? Perhaps he will be rightly called a leopard. If we divide the name it becomes lion and pard; lion, because we saw that he was not slow to attack the strongest places, fearing the onslaught of none, with the boldest valour making a raid amidst the castles, and wherever he goes succeeding as it were at his wish, as though like Alexander he would speedily subdue the whole world, if Fortune’s moving wheel would stand still for ever; wherein let the highest forthwith know that he will fall, and that he who reigns as lord will reign but a little time. And this has, it is clear, befallen the noble Edward, who, it is agreed, has fallen from his unstable position. A lion by pride and fierceness, he is by inconstancy and changeableness a pard, changing his word and promise, cloaking himself by pleasant speech. When he is in a strait he promises whatever you wish, but as soon as he has escaped he renounces his promise. Let Gloucester be witness, where, when free from his difficulty, he at once revoked what he had sworn. The treachery or falsehood whereby he is advanced he calls prudence; the way whereby he arrives whither he will, crooked though it be, is regarded as straight; wrong gives him pleasure and is called right ; whatever he likes he says is lawful, and he thinks that he is released from law, as though he were greater than the King. For every king is ruled by the laws which he makes; King Saul is rejected because he broke the laws; and David is related to have been punished as soon as he acted contrary to the law; hence, therefore, let him who makes laws, learn that he cannot rule who observes not the law; nor ought they, whose concern it is, to make this man king.

Despite these frightening character traits, however, Edward’s contemporaries considered him an able, even an ideal, king. Though not loved by his subjects, he was feared and respected. He met contemporary expectations of kingship in his role as an able, determined soldier and in his embodiment of shared chivalric ideals. In religious observance he also fulfilled the expectations of his age: he attended chapel regularly and gave alms generously. He was also a model, loyal, husband in a time when model husband did not exist and loyalty was not expected in a royal marriage.

Edward took a keen interest in the stories of King Arthur, which were highly popular in Europe during his reign. In 1278 he visited Glastonbury Abbey, in ruins today, shown above, to open what was then believed to be the tomb of Arthur and Guinevere, recovering “Arthur’s crown” from Llywelyn after the conquest of North Wales, while his new castles drew upon the Arthurian myths in their design and location.

Glastonbury Abbey Photochrom photo taken about 1900, above.

He held “Round Table” events in 1284 and 1302, involving tournaments and feasting, and chroniclers compared him and the events at his court to Arthur. In some cases Edward appears to have used his interest in the Arthurian myths to serve his own political interests, including legitimizing his rule in Wales and discrediting the Welsh belief that Arthur might return as their political savior.

This round table was made by Edward and is now hung in Winchester Castle.

Cleanup

Soon after assuming the throne, Edward set about restoring order and re-establishing royal authority after the disastrous reign of his father. To accomplish this, he immediately ordered an extensive change of administrative personnel. The most important of these was the appointment of Robert Burnell as chancellor, a man who would remain in the post until 1292 as one of the King’s closest associates.

Edward then replaced most local officials, such as the escheators and sheriffs. This last measure was done in preparation for an extensive inquest covering all of England, that would hear complaints about abuse of power by royal officers. The inquest produced the set of so-called Hundred Rolls, from the administrative subdivision of the hundred.

The second purpose of the inquest was to establish what land and rights the crown had lost during the reign of Henry III.

The Hundred Rolls formed the basis for the later legal inquiries called the Quo warranto proceedings. The purpose of these inquiries was to establish by what warrant various liberties were held. If the defendant could not produce a royal license to prove the grant of the liberty, then it was the crown’s opinion – based on the writings of the influential thirteenth-century legal scholar Bracton – that the liberty should revert to the king.

By enacting the Statute of Gloucester in 1278 the King challenged baronial rights through a revival of the system of general eyres (royal justices to go on tour throughout the land) and through a significant increase in the number of pleas of quo warranto to be heard by such eyres.

Long cross penny with portrait of Edward.

This caused great consternation among the aristocracy, who insisted that long use in itself constituted license. A compromise was eventually reached in 1290, whereby a liberty was considered legitimate as long as it could be shown to have been exercised since the coronation of King Richard I, in 1189. Royal gains from the Quo warranto proceedings were insignificant; few liberties were returned to the King. Edward had nevertheless won a significant victory, in clearly establishing the principle that all liberties essentially emanated from the crown.

Groat of Edward (4 pences).

The 1290 statute of Quo warranto was only one part of a wider legislative effort, which was one of the most important contributions of Edward I’s reign. This era of legislative action had started already at the time of the baronial reform movement; the Statute of Marlborough (1267) contained elements both of the Provisions of Oxford and the Dictum of Kenilworth. The compilation of the Hundred Rolls was followed shortly after by the issue of Westminster I (1275), which asserted the royal prerogative and outlined restrictions on liberties. In the Mortmain (1279), the issue was grants of land to the church. The first clause of Westminster II (1285), known as De donis conditionalibus, dealt with family settlement of land, and entails. Merchants (1285) established firm rules for the recovery of debts, while Winchester (1285) dealt with peacekeeping on a local level. Quia emptores (1290) – issued along with Quo warranto – set out to remedy land ownership disputes resulting from alienation of land by subinfeudation or subletting their land. The age of the great statutes largely ended with the death of Robert Burnell in 1292.

Wars and Castles

Wars in medieval England seem to be a way of life.

From 1276 to1294, conflicts erupted in Wales. They ebbed and flowed, and were politically motivated as most wars are. In 1277, 15,000 English forcefully invaded Wales on a punitive mission. Of those 15,000, 9000 were Welsh. The Welsh surrendered. However, in 1282, war broke out again and episodic rebellions would occur until 1294. In 1284, the Statute of Rhuddlan incorporated the principality of Wales unto England. Edward then focused on the English settlement of Wales and building castles.

An extensive project of castle-building was initiated under the direction of Master James of Saint George, a prestigious architect whom Edward had met in Savoy on his return from the crusade. These included the castles of Beaumaris, Caernarfon, Conwy and Harlech, intended to act both as fortresses and royal palaces for the King.

Caernarfon Castle where Edward’s son, Edward II, was born.

Beaumaris Castle

Harlech Castle

Conwy Castle

Many of these new towns, built for the English to settle in Wales, were extensively walled, such as Conwy. The Conwy Castle walls extended to be the actual city walls.

This artists rendition reconstructs Conwy Castle and the village in the 13th century. You can see the remainder of the city walls extending from the castle below to the left, in 2013.

Conwy Castle, with its massive walls was extremely well fortified.

Edward’s program of castle building in Wales heralded the introduction of the widespread use of arrowslits in castle walls across Europe, drawing on Eastern influences.

You can see an example, behind my left shoulder, in the ramparts of Conwy Castle.

When I visited Conwy Castle in the fall of 2013, I had no idea that I was connected in to this castle in quite this way. I’m incredibly glad, now, that I visited when given the opportunity.

Also a product of the Crusades was the introduction of the concentric castle, and four of the eight castles Edward founded in Wales followed this design.

The castles made a clear, imperial statement about Edward’s intentions to rule North Wales permanently, and drew on imagery associated with the Byzantine Roman Empire and King Arthur in an attempt to build legitimacy for his new regime.

In 1284, King Edward had his son Edward (later King Edward II) born at Caernarfon Castle, probably to make a deliberate statement about the new political order in Wales. David Powel, a 16th-century clergyman, suggested that the baby was offered to the Welsh as a prince “that was borne in Wales and could speake never a word of English”, but there is no evidence to support this account. In 1301 at Lincoln, the young Edward became the first English prince to be invested with the title of Prince of Wales, when King Edward granted him the Earldom of Chester and lands across North Wales. The King seems to have hoped that this would help in the pacification of the region, and that it would give his son more financial independence.

However, even today when talking with the Welsh, there is clearly still tension between the two countries, or parts of the UK. One Welchman told us that all he knew about English/Welsh history is that there were “bloody English castles all over the place, but we still speak Welsh here.”

The Great Cause of Scotland

Edward seems to have trouble keeping all of the neighbors under control. Scotland paid homage to England in 1278, but by the 1280s, the question of succession in Scotland came to a head. As a result of a long series of royal deaths, Edward’s then one year old son, Edward, was betrothed to the three year old Margaret, Maid of Norway, heir to the throne of Scotland after her parent’s deaths. This brought Scotland clearly under the rule of England. Her parents died, then she died in 1290. Fourteen men claimed the heirless throne, but it came down to John Balloil and Robert de Brus.

Edward was asked to mediate this dispute, which he did in favor of John. However, Edward continued to assert his authority over Scotland, especially militarily. The Scots took issue with this, especially as Edward pushed the issue, which led to Edward invading Scotland and taking the town of Berwick in a particularly bloody attack.

At the Battle of Dunbar, in 1296, Scottish resistance was defeated. Stirling castle surrendered – “the garrison having run away and left none but the porter, who did surrender the keys.”

However, while in Scotland, to add insult to injury, Edward confiscated the Stone of Scone, known as the Stone of Destiny, the Scottish coronation stone and brought it back to Westminster, placing it in King Edward’s chair. The message to Scotland was clear – they were subjects of England.

Money Issues

Constant warfare drained the coffers and caused Edward to have to raise funds by levying taxes. In 1275, he permanently taxed wool.

The Jews were another source of income as many English were indebted to and despised them. Christianity forbade money-lending, so the Jews were the financiers of English people. In 1275, Edward outlawed usury and encouraged Jews to take up other occupations. In 1279, he arrested all heads of Jewish households and executed about 300. They still did not convert, and in 1290, following the lead of other European leaders such as France and Brittany, he expelled them in the Edict of Expulsion. This generated revenue through royal appropriation of Jewish loans and property.

In 1295, Edward summoned 2 knights from each county and 2 men from each burgh to attend Parliament, setting the stage to collect lay subsidies on the entire population. Lay subsidies were collected on a fraction of the moveable property of all laymen and were occasionally collected for special purposes during a King’s reign. Henry III collected 4 during his reign and Edward collected 9 in total; three before 1294 and 4 between 1294-1297. In addition, he seized wool and hides and the burden of prises (appropriation of food.)

Warfare is expensive.

Edward became very unpopular and his policies created a great deal of resentment. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was the clerical subsidies ordered in 1294 which demanded half of all clerical (church) revenues.

In 1295, a papal bull from the Pope prohibited the Catholic churches from paying taxes to lay authorities without explicit consent from the Pope. A compromise was reached which allowed clergymen to pay the tax “in cases or pressing urgency.”

In 1297, the Earl of Norfolk objected to the King’s right to demand military service. He argued that the King’s ability to demand service was limited to those serving with him, but that he could not sail to Flanders, for example, and send his subjects to Gascony. In July, Roger Bigod and Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Constable of England drew up a series of complaints known as The Remonstrances which included required military service and extortive levels of taxation. Humphrey de Bohun was the father of Humphrey de Bohun, the 4th Earl of Hereford, born about 1276 who married King Edward’s daughter, Elizabeth in 1302, and from whom I descend. Edward responded by levying another lay subsidy which was particularly provocative.

The King left for Flanders with a greatly reduced force and the country seemed on the brink of civil war.

Ironically, it was the Scots that saved England. The defeat by the Scots at the Battle of Stirling Bridge (below) provided a threat to the homeland and united the English, the King and the magnates in a common cause.

Edward signed a confirmation of the Magna Carta called Confirmatio cartarum (in Norman French) and the nobility agreed to serve with the King on the campaign in Scotland. Edward’s father, Henry III, signed the original 1225 Magna Carta document, below.

Back to Scotland

The situation in Scotland had seemed resolved when Edward left the country in 1296, but resistance soon emerged under the leadership of the strategically gifted and charismatic William Wallace. On September 11, 1297, a large English force under the leadership of John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey, and Hugh de Cressingham was routed by a much smaller Scottish army led by Wallace and Andrew Moray at Stirling Bridge. The defeat sent shockwaves into England, and preparations for a retaliatory campaign started immediately. Soon after Edward returned from Flanders, he headed north.

Stirling Bridge with the Abbey Craig today.

On July 22, 1298, in the only major battle he had fought since Evesham in 1265, Edward defeated Wallace’s forces at the Battle of Falkirk by utilizing longbows, creating gaps in the Scot’s defenses allowing the cavalry to charge.

Edward, however, was not able to take advantage of the momentum, and the next year the Scots managed to recapture Stirling Castle. Even though Edward campaigned in Scotland both in 1300, when he successfully besieged Caerlaverock Castle and in 1301, the Scots refused to engage in open battle again, preferring instead to raid the English countryside in smaller groups.

Caelaverick Castle in ruins, about 1900. The castle, shown from the air today, is triangularly shaped and was built in the 1200s.

The defeated Scots, secretly urged on by the French, appealed to the pope to assert a claim of overlordship to Scotland in place of the English. His papal bull addressed to King Edward in these terms was firmly rejected on Edward’s behalf by the Barons’ Letter of 1301. The English managed to subdue the country by other means, however. In 1303, a peace agreement was reached between England and France, effectively breaking up the Franco-Scottish alliance.

Robert the Bruce, the grandson of the claimant to the crown in 1291, had sided with the English in the winter of 1301–02. By 1304, most of the other nobles of the country had also pledged their allegiance to Edward, and this year the English also managed to re-take Stirling Castle.

Stirling Castle drawn in 1693.

A great propaganda victory was achieved in 1305 when Wallace was betrayed by Sir John de Menteith and turned over to the English, who had him taken to London where he was publicly executed. With Scotland largely under English control, Edward installed Englishmen and collaborating Scots to govern the country.

The situation changed again on February 10, 1306, when Robert the Bruce murdered his rival John Comyn and a few weeks later, on 25 March, had himself crowned King of Scotland by Isobel, sister of the Earl of Buchan. Bruce now embarked on a campaign to restore Scottish independence, and this campaign took the English by surprise.

King Edward was suffering ill health by this time, and instead of leading an expedition himself, he gave different military commands to Aymer de Valence and Henry Percy, while the main royal army was led by the Prince of Wales. The English initially met with success; on June 19, Aymer de Valence routed Bruce at the Battle of Methven. Bruce was forced into hiding, while the English forces recaptured their lost territory and castles. Edward responded with severe brutality against Bruce’s allies; it was clear that he now regarded the struggle not as a war between two nations, but as the suppression of a rebellion of disloyal subjects. This brutality, though, rather than helping to subdue the Scots, had the opposite effect, and rallied growing support for Bruce.

Unfulfilled Crusades and the War on the Continent

The portrait above has been reported to be Edward I and also his son, Edward II.

Edward never again went on crusade after his return to England in 1274, but he maintained an intention to do so, and took the cross again in 1287. Like pilgrims, each crusader swore a vow (a votus) to be fulfilled on successfully reaching Jerusalem, and they were granted a cloth cross (crux) to be sewn into their clothes. This “taking of the cross”, the crux, eventually became associated with the entire journey. They saw themselves as undertaking an iter, a journey, or a peregrinatio, an armed pilgrimage. The inspiration for this “messianism of the poor” was the expected mass apotheosis at Jerusalem.

This image from the Jena Codex in the 1400s shows the Crusader’s Cross.

This intention of leaving on a second Crusade guided much of Edward’s foreign policy, until at least 1291.

To stage a European-wide crusade, it was essential to prevent conflict between the greater princes on the continent. A major obstacle to this was represented by the conflict between the French House of Anjou ruling southern Italy, and the kingdom of Aragon in Spain. In 1282, the citizens of Palermo rose up against Charles of Anjou and turned for help to Peter of Aragon, in what has become known as the Sicilian Vespers. In the war that followed, Charles of Anjou’s son, Charles of Salerno, was taken prisoner by the Aragonese. The French began planning an attack on Aragon, raising the prospect of a large-scale European war. To Edward, it was imperative that such a war be avoided, and in Paris in 1286 he brokered a truce between France and Aragon that helped secure Charles’ release. As far as the crusades were concerned, however, Edward’s efforts proved ineffective. A devastating blow to his plans came in 1291, when the Mamluks captured Acre, the last Christian stronghold in the Holy Land.

Medieval painting called “Les Templars” depicting the Siege of Acre.

After the fall of Acre, Edward’s international role changed from that of a diplomat to an antagonist. He had long been deeply involved in the affairs of his own Duchy of Gascony. In 1278 he assigned an investigating commission to his trusted associates Otto de Grandson and the chancellor Robert Burnell, which caused the replacement of the seneschal Luke de Tany. In 1286, Edward visited the region himself and stayed for almost three years. The perennial problem, however, was the status of Gascony within the kingdom of France, and Edward’s role as the French king’s vassal. On his diplomatic mission in 1286, Edward had paid homage to the new king, Philip IV, but in 1294 Philip declared Gascony forfeit when Edward refused to appear before him in Paris to discuss the recent conflict between English, Gascon, and French sailors (that had resulted in several French ships being captured, along with the sacking of the French port of La Rochelle).

Edward I (right) giving homage to Philip IV (left). As Duke of Aquitaine, Edward was a vassal of the French king.

Second Marriage

Eleanor of Castile died on November 28, 1290. Uncommon for such marriages of the period, and even though it was an arranged marriage, the couple loved each other.

Carvings of Edward and Eleanor at the Lincoln Cathedral.

Like his father, Edward was very devoted to his wife and was faithful to her throughout their married lives — a rarity among monarchs of the time. He was deeply affected by her death. He displayed his grief by erecting twelve so-called Eleanor crosses, one at each place where her funeral cortège stopped for the night. As part of the peace accord between England and France in 1294, it was agreed that Edward should marry Philip IV’s half-sister Margaret, but the marriage was delayed by the outbreak of war.

Edward made alliances with the German king, the Counts of Flanders and Guelders, and the Burgundians, who would attack France from the north. The alliances proved volatile, however, and Edward was facing trouble at home at the time, both in Wales and Scotland. It was not until August 1297 that he was finally able to sail for Flanders, at which time his allies there had already suffered defeat. The support from Germany never materialized, and Edward was forced to seek peace. His marriage to Margaret in 1299 ended the war, but the whole affair had proven both costly and fruitless for the English.

Edward married Margaret of France in 1299 and was married to her until his death in 1307.

Edward and Margaret had three more children.

Thomas born 1 June 1300, died 4 Aug 1338, buried in the abbey of Bury St Edmunds. Married (1) Alice Hales, with children; (2) Mary Brewes, no children.

It was sweet of Margaret to name her daughter Eleanor, especially as Henry’s health was declining. Sadly, Eleanor died three years after her father.

Edward’s Death

In February 1307, Robert the Bruce reappeared and started gathering men, and in May he defeated Aymer de Valence at the Battle of Loudoun Hill. King Edward, who had rallied somewhat, now moved north himself.

The ailing but indomitable King , then aged 68, mortally ill but refusing to admit defeat, embarked on horseback on the journey June 26th which was to prove his last. The protracted journey underlines the poor state of his health, he finally had to be carried in a litter. He reached Kirkandrews-on-Eden on 2nd July but struggled on until three days later he arrived at Burgh by Sands (which is pronounced bruff, not burgh,) just south of the Scottish border, where he finally breathed his last, dying of dysentery. When his servants came the next morning to lift him up so that he could eat, he died in their arms.

This monument rising from Burgh Marsh marks the location of King Edward I’s death.

Various stories emerged about Edward’s deathbed wishes; according to one tradition, he requested that his heart be carried to the Holy Land, along with an army to fight the infidels. A more dubious story tells of how he wished for his bones to be carried along on future expeditions against the Scots. Yet another says that Edward wanted his flesh to be boiled from his bones so that they could be carried with the army on every campaign into Scotland and that his heart be buried in the Holy Land. Another account of his deathbed scene is more credible; according to one chronicle, Edward gathered around him the Earls of Lincoln and Warwick, Aymer de Valence, and Robert Clifford, and charged them with looking after his son Edward. In particular they should make sure that Piers Gaveston was not allowed to return to the country. This wish, however, the son ignored, and had his favorite recalled from exile almost immediately.

King Edward’s body lay in state in St Michael’s Parish Church at Burgh by Sands before being taken to London in stages for burial at Westminster Abbey, the mausoleum of English kings. Below, the sculptured head of Edward I from Winchelsea Church.

He laid in state at Waltham Abbey, before being buried in Westminster Abbey on October 27th in a dalmatic (long tunic) of red silk damask with a mantle or rich crimson satin fastened with a fibula (brooch) gilt in gold. His grave bears this epitaph ‘Edwardus Primus Scottorum Malleus hic est 1308. Pactum Serva’ (Here lies Edward, the Hammer of the Scots. Keep this vow).

His body was visited there by his eldest son, Edward, Prince of Wales, who had been in Scotland at the time of his father’s death, he was proclaimed Edward II the following day at Carlisle. The new king, Edward II, remained in the north until August, but then abandoned the campaign and headed south. He was crowned king on 25 February 1308.

The map below of Westminster Abbey, from Mark Humphrey’s page shows the location of Edward’s tomb circled in blue and Eleanor’s in red.

There are few records of the funeral, which cost £473. Edward’s tomb was an unusually plain sarcophagus of Purbeck marble, without the customary royal effigy, possibly the result of the shortage of royal funds after the King’s death. The sarcophagus may normally have been covered over with rich cloth, and originally might have been surrounded by carved busts and a devotional religious image, all since lost. The Society of Antiquaries opened the tomb in 1774, finding that the body had been well preserved over the preceding 467 years, and took the opportunity to determine the King’s original height.

According to Westminster Abbey, when Edward’s tomb was opened, they found the body wrapped in waxed linen cloth and wearing royal robes of red and gold with a crimson mantle. He had a gilt crown on his head and carried a scepter surmounted by a dove and oak leaves in enamels.

Traces of the Latin inscription Edwardus Primus Scottorum Malleus hic est, 1308. Pactum Serva (“Here is Edward I, Hammer of the Scots, 1308. Keep the Vow”), can still be seen painted on the side of the tomb, referring to his vow to avenge the rebellion of Robert Bruce. This resulted in Edward being given the epithet the “Hammer of the Scots” by historians, but is not contemporary in origin, having been added by the Abbot John Feckenham in the 16th century.

A drawing of Edward’s tomb from when it was opened in 1774.

Ironically, Edward has no decorative tomb, per se, and is buried under a plain marble slab, shown below. I wonder why ornamentations weren’t later added.

The burial location of Eleanor is shown below at right. The tomb of Henry III, the father of Edward I is shown at left. Edward buried Eleanor beside his father. The Norman-French inscription can be translated as “Here lies Eleanor, sometime Queen of England, wife of King Edward son of King Henry, and daughter of the King of Spain and Countess of Ponthieu, on whose soul God in His pity have mercy. Amen”.

Westminster Abbey probably hasn’t changed a great deal. This drawing below shows the choir in 1848.

Edward’s 26 year old widow, Margaret of France retired to Marlborough Castle after his death and never remarried, she is recorded as saying “when Edward died, all men died for me”. She lived on for ten years after her husband’s death, dying at the age of 36 and was buried at Greyfriars Church, Greenwich.

The King and I

King Edward I is my 23rd great-grandfather, or said another way, I’m the 25th generation downstream from him. This means that I’m also related to Valerie Bertinelli. Grandpa King Edward is her 16th great grandfather, so that means that she and are I are 16th cousins 7 times removed, or genetically equal to 19th cousins once removed. Actually, I think she descended through the same daughter, so we’re actually at least one (and possibly more) generations closer.

Sixth cousins share under 1% of their DNA, So 19th cousins share a miniscule amount, if any. It’s absolutely possible that Valerie and I share absolutely no DNA at all from King Edward. In fact, it’s possible that neither Valerie nor I, individually, inherited ANY DNA from King Edward. But let’s face it, despite the odds of not receiving any DNA from a specific ancestor that long ago, we did inherit DNA from ancestors that long ago, and even longer ago, so it had to come from someone, or we wouldn’t be here today with a full DNA compliment. In other words, several someone’s beat the odds and their DNA survived. Seems to me like Edward just might have had some of that survivor DNA to share.

I hope that Valerie will become curious and test her autosomal DNA, and will then have someone work with her to download her DNA to GedMatch where we can drop the thresholds to 1cM to see if we so share even a shred of Edward’s DNA. I’d be glad to volunteer!

I actually did the math, and at 15th cousins, we are down to only one matching base pair from a common ancestor. But, given that, we also know that autosomal DNA is not inherited exactly at 50% in each generation and that it is inherited in clumps, sticky segments, so, indeed, maybe, just maybe…..

One thing we can do, however, is to check and see if the Plantagenet line is represented in DNA testing for the Y line. That would be quite interesting.

Bradley said: “A review was made of existing genetic genealogy findings that infer characteristics of the Y-DNA of members of the British Monarchy. Nine sustained Y-DNA lineages since the year 927 CE were noted as dynastic groups. Haplogroup and haplotype characteristics of three of the dynasties were presented with two more dynasties noted as testable but unpublished. Cultural and geographical origins of these dynasties were considered as context for their DNA haplogroups. Specimen candidates for further testing were identified noting that some will require Ancient DNA (aDNA) recovery and analysis.”

Bradley identified the dynasties of the British monarchy beginning in the year 927 and ending in 2013, as shown below.

Mountbatten/Romanov

Hannover

Windsor

Stuart

Tudor

Plantagenet

Blois

Wessex

Norman

Knytlinga (Viking)

Bradley then researched each dynasty and lineage. If lines have been tested, he provides the results. Several lines have no male descendants, so for those, we would need ancient DNA. The connections and interconnections are fascinating.

To view the detail and summary data about each dynasty, read Bradley’s paper here, especially the summary table near the end.

Now, you do know, that of course my Plantagenet line is one that is not yet represented in the DNA data bases. However, King Richard III, being King Richard of the Car Park fame, descends from the same paternal male line. King Richard is, in fact, the great-great-grandson of Edward I, through all males, so Richard should indeed carry the same Y DNA that King Edward I carried. In February, 2014 the University of Leister announced that they were going to sequence the entire genome of Richard III. I think that is absolutely wonderful news.

Richard would be my 7th cousin, 16 times removed, or genetically equivalent to my 15th cousin. He’s more closely related to Valerie, 7th cousins 9 times removed, or equivalent to 11th cousins once removed.

I checked with Debbie Kennett who, being a genetic genealogist and blogger in Britain, is familiar with and interested in all things British, and she indicated that a paper is due imminently reporting the results of Richard III’s DNA testing, including Y DNA. I can hardly wait. I did not inherit the patience gene from anyone!

It looks like Bradley will be able to update his table, I’ll be able to discover the Y DNA of my 23rd grandfather and so will Valerie Bertinelli.

And I don’t even have to chase down any relatives and try to figure out how to persuade them to test, nor do I have to pay for any testing. I think this is wonderful. And I didn’t even have to dig anyone up either!!! All done for me! How does this get better?

So, my husband asked me if I’m in the royal line of succession. I had to admit, I had no idea. It never occurred to me, and now that I think about it, I surely hope not! I can’t even curtsey.

I’m not quite sure how things shifted from family lines, or why, since Edward I, so I googled. I found out a lot about the British line of succession, and while Valerie and I both might be in that line along with thousands of our cousins, I discovered one thing for sure. I hate to disappoint Valerie, but both of our families have a Catholic marriage between us and the good King Edward I, so even if we were in the line of succession, we’re disqualified now. Sorry Valerie. I know you’re crushed:)

So, I think that to celebrate our newly found royal ancestor, Valerie and I need to have a sitting to be fitted for our new royal tiaras. Every girl wants to be a princess and my granddaughters would think this is THE coolest thing since sliced bread. I mean, Grandma is a REAL princess. Ok, 24 times removed, but who’s counting. Details. And they are real princesses too, 26 times removed.

So, I kind of like this tiara. What do you think?

I don’t think they’ll let me borrow this one with those luscious green emeralds from the Louvre.

The granddaughters like this pink one. Now there’s a surprise.

I’m thinking, this is probably about as close as I’m going to get.

A couple of years ago, during one the Lost Colony Research Group archaeology digs on Hatteras Island, I fixed the computer in the library, which was refusing to print. For that, I got to wear the honorary tiara. It’s a local tradition. It felt so comfortable, I forgot all about it and then wondered why people were looking at me strangely:)

What fun!

If you descend from the Sarah Ludlow and Reverend Nathaniel Brewster lines in the US, you too descend from King Edward I. Sarah’s father was the Honorable Roger Ludlow, Deputy Governor of Massachusetts in 1634 and 10th great grandson of Edward I. He’s the “gateway ancestor” who married Mary Cogan. The Rev. Nathaniel Brewster, a member of the first graduating class at Harvard in 1642, married their daughter, Sarah Ludlow. And the rest, is indeed, history.

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It’s always fun to see everyone in Houston. I’ve never been a big “joiner.” No, I didn’t go to my high school class reunion. But this, well, it’s different. Many of us have been in this foxhole together for a decade now. It’s like old home week. And what is really amazing to me is how many of these people, over the years, I’ve discovered that I’m related to in one way or another.

I have received a couple of questions that I’d like to answer. One person asked if this conference is available to everyone. The answer is no. It is held and subsidized by Family Tree DNA and its focused on their project administrators. We, as a group, have to stay educated in order to educate and guide others appropriately. So this is not a conference for beginners, although, clearly, everyone has to start someplace. Many genealogy conferences now include DNA sessions and DNA tracks. If you’re unhappy about this, it’s easy to volunteer to assist an administrator for any project of your choice, and then you’ll be eligible to attend.

Are they recording the conference? No, they aren’t. Many or most of the speakers work in this field and not everyone is willing to have their sessions made public. Furthermore, my experience with recording conferences, especially where there is not an auditorium or studio environment is that the audio/video is quite poor.

Is there a “boot camp” for new people? There isn’t, per se, but Family Tree DNA does offer free webinars periodically which are announced on their website, facebook and other media sources. I would encourage people to take advantage of these opportunities.

Another change from previous conferences is that Family Tree DNA will be tweeting directly from the conference.

Now for the report on tonight’s reception.

It’s always great to see some new people. It seems that every year, about 30% of the faces are new. I see some folks that are repeats from the “new” group last year, which always makes me feel good. Many of us really try to make sure the new folks feel included. Katherine Borges and I were trying to figure out who has attended all 9 conferences, and we could only come up with 2 people in addition to ourselves. However, there are a lot of people who started attending the second year and have been with us ever since.

Family Tree DNA has brought new people on board through their acquisition of Arpeggi this last year and many of those folks were here this evening. They are excited about the new opportunities in genetic genealogy. We’ll be hearing more from Jason Wang, Chief Technology Officer, David Mittleman, PhD, Chief Scientific Officer (a geneticist by the way), Nir Leibovich, Chief Business Officer and Rudy Marsh, Director of Product later in the conference.

I finally got to meet Marja Pirttivaara in person. She came from Finland for the conference and will be speaking tomorrow about Bridging Social Media and DNA. Sadly, her session is the same time as mine so I won’t be able to attend hers:(

I blogged about the serendipitous moment when Marja and I discovered that we share a common ancestor in some distant misty place in Europe. It was so wonderful to actually get to meet her in person. I was so excited, I forgot to get a photo, but I will before the end of the conference.

Towards the end of the evening, I caught up with Katherine Borges, founder and Director of ISOGG. It’s always wonderful to see Katherine. That’s her and I taking “selfies” above. I noticed that Katherine had changed clothes from earlier in the evening. The room was quite warm. Looking at her, I realized that she was wearing these kind of ribbon wrapped sandals where the ribbons wrapped up her legs. They were cool in a California sort of way. Then, I saw them. Yep….I had to look closer to be sure I really did see what I thought I saw.

One thing about Katherine, you can always count on her passion for genetic genealogy, and also her passion for fun. Yes indeed, it’s good to be back in Houston. It’s going to be a great conference.

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Beginning today and ending Monday night, April 22nd, at midnight, Family Tree DNA will be having an extensive DNA Day Sale. Of note, both mitochondrial Full Sequence and Family Finder upgrades will be included, which seldom happens. Family Tree DNA is taking this opportunity as well to announce technology upgrades in their sequenceing equipment.

If you have been considering either, this is a great sale and a good time to order these tests. Family Tree DNA’s announcement to project administrators today is provided below.

SPECIAL DNA DAY REDUCED PRICING

We are pleased to announce our 2013 DNA DAY Promotion.While the special pricing features all the major tests, we’re placing particular emphasis on the Full Mitochondrial Sequence and Family Finder. We’ll offer Y-DNA upgrades during a Father’s Day sale and will give you those details at that time.By carefully choosing the sale options and limiting the length of the sale, we will be better able to focus our resources on processing the tests efficiently and avoiding delays in delivering results.

We are proud to announce we have successfully moved our mtDNA Full Sequencing line from Sanger DNA sequencing to what is called Next Generation Sequencing (NGS). This gives us much greater capacity to process tests, to reduce costs without sacrificing quality, and to ensure shorter turnaround times.

We must run the entire sequence every time we process an mtDNA full sequence test, even for upgrades. However, in recognition of your prior investment- and National DNA Day – we’re offering our lowest price ever for the FMS and upgrades.

Rather than the 8-10 weeks first generation sequencing required, we expect results to be completed within 5-6 weeks. This does depend on the number of orders received though. If their DNA is already at our lab, those who order first may expect even shorter turnaround times.

For a limited time we will be selling the FMS for $189 and whether you’ve tested HVR1 or HVR1+2, you’ll be able to upgrade to the Full Sequence for just $129!

In addition, we are also lowering the Family Finder to $169 for this sale!

The sale will begin tonight, April 18th, at 6PM CDT and will conclude at 11:59PM CDT on Monday April 22nd. All orders must be placed and paid for by the end of the sale to receive the promotional price.

There will be no need for a coupon – all prices will be automatically adjusted on the website.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT
Bennett Greenspan
President
Family Tree DNA

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Neanderthals separated from humans, Homo Sapiens, about 400,000 years ago, but then, in Eurasia, the two species, who were believed to be unable to interbreed, came back together again, and did. We know this because every population in the world, except for Africa, carries both Neanderthal and/or Denisovan DNA, including aboriginal people from Australia. This information, newly discovered in the past year or so, raises a lot of thorny questions.

Neaderthals have been grouped as a separate species from Homo Sapiens, modern man, and members of two different species, by definition, are not supposed to be able to interbreed and have fertile offspring. So are Neanderthals and Homo Sapiens really the same species?

Neanderthals, as a separate species became physically extinct about 30,000 years ago, at least we can no longer find fossil records of them. But did they really, or did they simply assimilate and genetically, and physically, become the new us?

And if that wasn’t enough, there are the Denisovans and they too interbred with Homo Sapiens. In fact, Denisovan and Neanderthal bones have been discovered together, and Denisovans are believed to be an offshoot of Neanderthals. And what about the Hobbits of Flores Island? Where and how do they fit in?

And there are probably more surprises that await us, because there are more fossilized bones that we have not been able to obtain DNA from that don’t match any of the groups mentioned above. In the future, discoveries of fossilized bones will likely be made that from which we will be able to recover DNA, as the recovery techniques improve.

But what does all of this mean? How does it affect what we knew, or thought we knew, about the “Out of Africa” theory that says all contemporary man evolved in African, left Africa and subsequently killed off or replaced all of the other species, such as Neanderthals? If that’s not true, what is true? Did we evolve out of African several separate times, getting reacquainted some several 10s (or hundreds) of thousands of years later on another continent?

All of this unexpected mixture causes lots of questions, and today, we don’t have many answers. But maybe the biggest question is that of what, exactly, is a modern human?

CHRISTOPHER STRINGER is one of the world’s foremost paleoanthropologists. He is a founder and most powerful advocate of the leading theory concerning our evolution: Recent African Origin or “Out of Africa”. He has worked at The Natural History Museum, London since 1973, is a Fellow of the Royal Society, and currently leads the large and successful Ancient Human Occupation of Britain project (AHOB). His most recent book is TheOrigin of Our Species (titled Lone Survivors in the US).

Here’s what Christopher has to say:

“At the moment, I’m looking again at the whole question of a recent African origin for modern humans—the leading idea over the last 20 years. This argues that we had a recent African origin, that we came out of Africa, and that we replaced all of the other human forms that were outside of Africa. But we’re having to re-evaluate that now because genetic data suggest that the modern humans who came out of Africa about 60,000 years ago probably interbred with Neanderthals, first of all, and then some of them later on interbred with another group of people called the Denisovans, over in south eastern Asia.”

To read more of Christopher’s thoughts, click here. They are very interesting and enlightening indeed, from a man who has been in this field since the beginning, a mere 40 years ago.

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I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone for following and reading my blog this year. I launched www.dna-explained.com in July, so this annual report is only for 6 months. The blog had an amazing 85,000 views from 137 countries in 6 months. Not bad at all. If you’d like to see more, like which posts were the most popular and who posted the most comments, the WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for my blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

19,000 people fit into the new Barclays Center to see Jay-Z perform. This blog was viewed about 85,000 times in 2012. If it were a concert at the Barclays Center, it would take about 4 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

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For several years now, I’ve been writing Personalized DNA Reports, publishing articles in newsletters about genetic genealogy and blogging about the Native Heritage Project.

I post lots of free papers to my website at www.dnaexplain.com under the Publications tab, but I’ve often felt the need to be able to talk to and with people who have questions. I learned long ago that if one person has a question about something, many others probably have that same question. Blogging is an interactive, personal way to communicate.

Genetic genealogy is a world full of promise, but it changes rapidly and can be confusing. People need to understand how to use the numerous tools available to us to unravel our ancestral history.

People also love to share stories. We become inspired by the successes of others, and ideas are often forthcoming that we would not have otherwise thought of.

So, I invite you to follow along with this blog as I share things I learn, answer people’s questions and generally, have fun with genetic genealogy!!!